


Protected

by mhunter10



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Cute, Gang Violence, Gangs, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Canon, Prison, Protectiveness, Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-07 21:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18240269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mhunter10/pseuds/mhunter10
Summary: Ian has to deal with the attention of some gangs while Mickey is gone





	Protected

**Author's Note:**

> You may want to read Slice first, but it's not...critical 😉

It isn't easy, but somehow Ian manages to survive on his own for three weeks without Mickey. It's not that he can't take care of himself, but more that Mickey has settled into the role of protective boyfriend and is not going to give it up any time soon. Ian likes it, despite having to remind Mickey that they agreed to take care of each other; no more one-sided shit. It's worked. It's working.

Then Mickey came down with pneumonia and had to be taken to the hospital. Ian was sent to solitary for fighting the guards who caught him trying to escape to get to him. In his defense, his mind had twisted the reality so much he believed they were taking Mickey to gas chambers under the jail.

So he freaked. Got a week in confinement, the first half of which he spent numb from a new cocktail. Mickey had barely been conscious as they took him away, but there still managed to be worry on his face for Ian.

Ian wasn’t exactly on his own, though. As soon as he was back in the mix, it didn't take long for him to notice the change. Even if he was by himself it seemed like he was never alone. The same few faces kept cropping up wherever he was like magic...or very careful planning. He armed himself because that's what Mickey would tell him to do. Watched his own ass without letting on that he knew. But nothing ever came. Until it did.

It was night when the cell door slid open and what sounded like a lot of socked feet entered. Before he could react, his hands were pinned to the bed and his mouth was covered. The first few blows came hard and fast; bars of soap and shoes hitting his stomach and legs. Then there was a scuffle, fighting, whispered threats, and Ian was released. He didn’t wait to see what happened, just sprang to his feet ready to defend himself. It was dark but he could see inmates fleeing and some staying. He swung.

"Damn, white boy got a nice hook."

"Got more than that if you don't get the fuck--"

"Hey, whoa...shit, Ian, wait homie, a'ight?"

"Crit?" Ian asked, confused as all hell. "What are you--"

"Man, fucking saving your goddamn snowflake ass. We heard some shit, saw some shit. We got eyes all up in this bitch. As soon as Shorty was out, we knew niggas was gonna take advantage, you feel me, Ian?"

All Ian could do was nod. He went back to bed after that but didn't sleep, wondering what exactly this all meant for him. He missed Mickey. He had so many questions. Crit and his crew explained it again and it still didn't make sense.

"You want...me? Me?" Ian gestured towards himself with his eyebrows raised.

Critical sucked his teeth, mainly because the oatmeal was a bit too sticky today, but he'd already made up his mind. "Yes, fuck you think I been saying this whole damn time? It's real fucking simple shit, Ian. We seen you since you been here, you and Shorty. You got some rep of your own and we like that. Right?"

Mad, Extra, Punch, Say So, Lock, Steps, Dreamy and Will all nod once in agreement and remain silent, all eyes on Ian.

"You in, motherfucker, or you out?" Crit asks.

That was days ago now.

Now, Ian is distracted as he swallows around Mickey’s dick. He pulls off with a soft pop and wipes the saliva from his chin, absently stroking his boyfriend as his mind goes back to the offer. Will and Dreamy shadowed him during the day, while Ex and Lock took over at night. They were all okay guys, answering his questions and having his back while Mickey was away. He had warned Crit that Mickey wouldn't like it, so they backed off some but reminded him he had to make a choice.

Mickey let out a frustrated huff above him. "Ian, you're fucking killing me here, man, and I literally almost died. The fuck is going on?"

Ian mumbled an apology and tried to focus his efforts. He took Mickey back in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head and sucking hard. He was happy to finally have Mickey back, obviously. The thought of never seeing him again was even more unbearable than when he’d left him at the border. And they'd been making up ever since Mickey had come sauntering back into their cell like nothing had happened.

Mickey moaned now, gripping his hair tight and arching off the bed to get deeper down Ian’s throat. Ian bobbed and hummed, massaging Mickey’s balls as they drew up for his imminent release. Ian rubbed a dry finger across his puckered hole and sucked him all the way down, making him yelp. Mickey tensed up, spilling his load through an intense orgasm, then went limp. Ian took it all, licking Mickey clean and kissing his way up his body.

"Fuck, I missed you," Mickey sighed, kissing him. "All I could think about was getting out of that bed and getting to you."

"Hmm," Ian hummed against Mickey’s neck, breathing in his scent and finding comfort in it. He was safe back in Mickey’s arms. Everything was fine. But if Mickey wasn’t around again...

"Hey. You're quiet. Usually I can't shut you up. What's going on?" Mickey asked, pulling Ian’s chin up to meet his eyes.

Ian thought for a few seconds, trying to predict his boyfriend’s reaction and coming up with nothing. He bit his lip then sighed.

"What would you say if I was...propositioned?"

"I'd say what the fuck are you talking about. You wanna give me some more there?"

"Um...you know Critical,"

Mickey nodded.

"And his, uh..."

"Gang."

Ian swallowed. "Right. Well--"

"Ian, c'mon. What?"

"They...want me."

Mickey waited for more. "To what?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you fucking mean, what do I mean, Ian? What do they want?"

"Me."

"What does that mean?" Mickey sat up, fixing his boxers before getting out of the bed to take a piss.

"I don't know. That's what Critical said, alright? Him and his guys had my back when you...they looked out for me, you know?"

"I look out for you. What are you saying?" Mickey finished up and crossed his arms.

Ian got up and pulled him closer by his hips. "I know, Mick. I just think it could be a good thing, okay? Take some of the pressure off you. They’re nice guys and they like me."

Mickey rolled his eyes. "You realize they're all criminals, right? Meaning they're in here for something, Ian."

"We're in here," Ian reminded him.

Mickey made a face, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ian, they've killed people. I...I've killed people. They don't let people into gangs for setting some vans on fire with some confused teens. I don’t want...that's not you."

Ian stepped back. "Mickey, it's not like that. And fuck you, I've done shit too, okay? Or did you forget we're from the same neighborhood?"

"No. Just..."

"Just what? Just wait for some other gangs to try to beat me to death in the middle of the night the next chance they get? Huh?"

Mickey's face changed. "What? Who--"

Ian shook his head and waved it off. "Not everybody likes me, and I think people are catching on that what we have isn't just some arrangement. This could help us out if shit goes south."

Mickey seemed to think about that for a moment as he stared at Ian, worry and concern and anger on his face. He came closer and wrapped his arms around Ian's neck, putting their foreheads together.

"So they want you, huh? They sure about that? What would your name be?" He joked, letting Ian know he was on board.

Ian grinned. "I'd be taking Crucial's place since he's...well, dead. They’re gonna call me Clout."

Mickey snorted. "Jesus fuck, I thought Curtis was bad enough. Clout?"

"At least I'm not Shorty," Ian teased, nipping at Mickey’s lips.

Mickey pulled back. "What'd you fucking say?"

Ian laughed, glad Mickey was going to be okay with him joining a gang.

"Let's go to bed," he pulled Mickey back to the bunk and down on top of him.

"I'm gonna fucking kill someone, I don't care what they call themself. They'll be fucking dead!"

Ian giggled, wrestling Mickey under the sheets. "Sorry, only members can file complaints, Shorty."

"Don't call me that! If they call me that, I swear I'll fucking--"

Ian covered his mouth with a rough kiss, holding Mickey down under him until he gave up his fight. He pulled back, biting and sucking at his neck til he got to his ear.

"You ever fuck a gang member before?"

Mickey didn’t say another word against Ian’s new position.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Partly inspired by Todd going to jail in Bojack Horseman 😂


End file.
